Collateral Damage
by BatmanSwiss
Summary: The first thought that ran through Neal Caffrey's mind at the sound of the cavalry's arrival was typically one of relief. However, he wasn't usually alone, un-armed, and pissing off a Russian thug. This wasn't going to end well.
1. Chapter 1

Author: BatmanSwiss

Title: Collateral Damage

Spoiler: 5x06

Disclaimer: Still not mine. :( Property of Jeff Eastin, USA, etc.

Author's Note: Sorry if it's a bit rough around the edges- I am trying to dust off my muse and put her back to work. This will most likely be a three-parter. No real plot, just some h/c goodness.

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_"FBI, Freeze!"_

The first thought that ran through Neal Caffrey's mind at the sound of the cavalry's arrival was typically one of relief. However, he wasn't usually alone, un-armed, and pissing off a Russian thug.

This wasn't going to end well.

Sure enough, Nikolai grabbed Neal before he could even think to flee. The big Russian used his weight to pin Neal against the wall, his arms pushing Neal upward until his feet no longer touched the ground.

He tried to wriggle free of the larger man's grip, but it was no use. Nikolai had his arm against Neal's throat, and the more he struggled, the more pressure the thug applied. Bright spots were beginning to flash across his vision, and Neal did the only thing he could think of: he brought his knee up into the other man's gut.

The maneuver worked, and Nikolai dropped Neal. He landed with a thud, but his survival instincts had taken over and he was instantly up on his feet. Neal turned and tried to run back toward the stairs, but a meaty hand latched onto his shoulder and pulled him back.

The sudden change in direction, coupled with the lingering dizziness from before, left Neal unable to pull away. Thankfully, Neal could see Jones rushing down the stairs in their direction.

His relief was short-lived, however, when he saw Jones' eyes widen. Neal tried to turn his head and face his captor, but was instead greeted with a hard pressure on his side.

Neal dropped to his knees, trying to figure out what happened. Had Nikolai landed a lucky punch? He felt disconnected, though he was vaguely aware of Jones shouting at the Russian. Then there was an all-too-loud thump as something fell to the carpet next to him. The world suddenly began to tilt, and Neal felt himself falling to the floor. As he fell, he was able to catch a glimpse of a jagged knife, covered in blood. His blood. _Oh. _After that, the pain ripped through him and everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

"Drop the weapon!"

Jones watched as Nikolai dropped the knife. The Russian slowly put his hands up and behind his head, a smug grin plastered across his face. Clinton motioned for the agents behind him to move in while reaching for his radio. "Man down! I repeat, man down!"

Jones rushed forward. The other agents had secured Nikolai, so he focused his attention on Caffrey. The man was unconscious and losing blood fast.

"Jones…? Neal!"

The agent looked up to see Peter running down the steps at full speed. He moved out of the way slightly, but would not totally relinquish his spot next to the CI. He had already removed his jacket and was trying to keep pressure on the wound. Jones looked down and swallowed hard at the amount of red that still continued to pour out of his friend's side.

Peter took in the situation instantly, placing his own hands on top of the junior agent's to apply more pressure while yelling for someone to call the EMT's. After a moment, he caught the other agent's eye. Jones was taken aback by the fear he saw there. He was preparing to fill the senior agent in when Neal screamed.

His back arched and his eyes flew open. Neal's breath came in shallow gasps, his blue eyes wide as they frantically darted from side to side.

Peter angled his head so that Neal could clearly see his face. "Neal! Neal, I need you to calm down!" He was relieved when Neal locked eyes with him. The CI's body stilled somewhat, but his eyes were wild as they tried to focus on Peter.

"There you go, Neal. Look at me. I just need you to keep looking at me, okay?"

Neal nodded, and Jones took advantage of the momentary calm to try and re-apply his sodden jacket to Neal's side. The younger man screamed again, and Peter grabbed Neal's hand and gripped it tightly.

"You're gonna be all right, Neal, okay? The ambulance is almost here. You're gonna be all right. Just stay with me."

"P-Peter…"

Peter leaned in, tightening his grip on Neal's hand. "Don't talk, Neal."

"I'm sorry…"

"No, Neal, I'm sorry. I should have waited until you came back upstairs. I didn't realize-"

Neal began shaking violently, causing Jones' blood-slicked hands to slip from his side. Peter watched, helpless, as shock began to set in. He quickly ripped off his own jacket and wrapped it around his friend, but he knew that it would not be much help. "Where's the damn bus?!"

As if on cue, two blue-clad paramedics appeared in the hallway. Jones relinquished his spot at Neal's side, trying to pull Peter with them. After a moment, Peter let him.

The next few minutes were a blur. Neal was rushed out to the waiting ambulance with Peter only steps behind him. Jones was left with hurried orders to help manage the scene; Peter would call with any news. Neal would be okay.

As Jones stared down at the ruined carpet, he wasn't so sure.


	3. Chapter 3

Neal would never be able to recall what happened once the EMT's loaded him onto the ambulance. It was all flashing lights mixed with moments of darkness; pained screams and frantic shouts. The only constant through it all was Peter Burke.

Peter, on the other hand, would never forget. The world was condensed to that tiny space in the back of the ambulance. Each worried glance from the EMT's, the brilliant blue of Neal's eyes when he came to, the sound of machines screeching shortly after as Neal crashed; each burned into his memory.

The paramedics shoved him roughly out of the way. Peter couldn't hold it against them, though- they were fighting to save Neal's life. He took that moment to pull out his phone and send El a quick text, letting her know what had happened and asking her to get the word out and meet him at the hospital.

He tucked the phone back into his pocket as the ambulance came to a sudden halt. When the doors opened, he jumped out and got out of the way. The EMT's were still working to stabilize Neal, and he heard them shouting to the waiting crew. "Stab wound to the right abdomen. Massive blood loss. Patient will need immediate transfusion. We lost him on the ride- 10 seconds until successful resuscitation…"

"_We lost him…" _ Peter's heart sunk at the words. He ran a shaking hand through his hair before jogging after the gurney.

Once he was inside, chaos seemed to erupt. There were orderlies everywhere. So many, in fact, that he lost sight of Neal entirely. Panic gripped his heart as he search frantically for any sign of his friend.

"Sir? Sir?!"

He turned to see a short woman dressed in pink scrubs approach. "Sir? Are you with the young man who just came in?"

Peter nodded dumbly. He didn't resist as she gently grabbed his arm and steered him toward the reception desk.

"Sir, your friend is being taken back to surgery now. I assure you; the doctors here are very skilled and will do everything they can. Is there someone you would like us to call?"

"No… Neal- he's my CI. He- he has a- a tracking anklet. You'll need the key…"

The nurse nodded, sliding her hand up to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Of course, sir. If you have it with you, I will make sure they get it in surgery. Are you able to make medical decisions for your friend?"

Peter handed her the anklet key and tried to fill out the medical papers. His hands were shaking badly and as he wrote, he noticed that they were still covered in Neal's blood. The nurse caught him staring at his hands and guided him over to the restroom. He tried to thank her, but she just smiled and handed him a pair of blue scrubs.

Once Peter had cleaned himself up and thrown away his ruined suit (it wasn't like he would ever want to wear it again anyway), he made his way back out to the lobby of the ER. The nurse had an orderly waiting to take him back to the waiting room, and informed him that he would not be the only one there.

When Peter arrived at the non-descript waiting room, he found that El, Jones and even Mozzie were already there. Jones had already filled them in on what had happened, and together the small group sat down to wait.

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Author's Note: Ok, so it turns out that this will be a four-parter after all!


	4. Chapter 4

Neal came to slowly, his body protesting the effort of cracking open an eye. He settled for just the one, finding it easier than trying to force the other and focus them at the same time. A quick glance told him he was in a hospital. Another look and he could see Peter at his bedside, awkwardly slumped in a tacky blue-cushioned hospital chair.

Neal cleared his throat, which still hurt from when Nikolai had tried to strangle him. The sound started Peter and nearly caused him to falling out of the chair.

"Hey buddy! How are you feeling?"

"About as bad as you look, I guess."

It was true. Neal opened his other eye and took in Peter's haggard appearance. The man's clothes looked like they had been slept in, and it looked like he hadn't shaved in days.

"Peter, how long…? What happened?"

Peter took a deep breather and ran a hand through his hair. He leaned in toward Neal, "do you remember anything?"

The conman thought back. Everything seemed kind of jumbled. There was the party, and then- "It's all kind of hazy."

His friend nodded solemly. "Nikolai had a knife on him. You were stabbed, Neal. You nearly bled out. You would have, if Jones hadn't shown up when he did."

"Oh. Well, that explains a lot. I guess I owe Jones one."

"You- what?!" Peter leapt to his feet. "Damn it, Neal! How can you be so- so casual about this?"

Neal shrugged. "Look, Peter… calm down, okay? I'm all right."

"You're in the damn hospital, Neal! You were _stabbed! _ I saw you lying there, bleeding. I saw you-"

Peter cut off suddenly and turned away from the bed. Neal lay there, completely stunned. He had rarely seen Peter lose himself like that, and it only happened when things went horribly, horribly wrong.

Neal reached out and weakly grabbed at Peter's pant leg. "Peter," he asked softly, "what happened? What did you see?"

When Peter turned around, he looked as though he had aged five years in the span of a few seconds. Tear shone in his eyes, and Neal was suddenly afraid.

"I saw you die."

It was spoken so softly that Neal barely heard it. As it was, it took a moment for the words to sink in. "_I saw you die…"_

"Peter, I'm sorry."

The agent sat down heavily. "No, Neal. Listen, I'm sorry. I should have been more careful during that bust. I shouldn't have let you go after Nikolai."

The guilt pouring off of the agent was palpable. Neal knew that Peter had probably refused to leave the hospital, feeling as though it was his duty to personally make sure Neal didn't make check out permanently.

"Listen, Peter. You can't blame yourself for this. Even if you had tried to keep me from chasing after Nikolai, do you really think I would have listened? At least it was me, and not an agent that went down there."

The look that settled on Peter's face sent Neal as far down into his pillow as he could physically get. The man was back on his feet, towering over the conman. "Don't you dare say that, Neal! What the hell are you thinking? Why on earth would you think that your life is worth less than theirs?"

Blue eyes snapped up. "You."

That surprised the agent and he took a step back. "What?"

"You, Peter. You're the one who stood there only a few weeks ago and told me that I was just a criminal. After everything we've been through, that's all I am to you? After what I did for you, that's how you thank me?"

"Look, Neal. I told you that I appreciate whatever you did to get James to confess, but-"

"He never confessed, Peter!"

"What?"

Neal raised his head as far as he could, anger fueling his battered body. "Yeah, Peter, you heard me. James never confessed. _I _left that message. After you were arrested, James went underground. Not even Mozzie's connections could find him. El was getting desperate, and there wasn't anything else we could do without James. So I did what I had to do to save you. Don't act surprised, Peter. After all, I am just a criminal!"

"You falsified evidence?! Damn it, Neal. I never asked you to do that! Do you realize what could have happened? What will happen, once this comes out?"

"So don't tell them. You didn't do it. You've been cleared. Why open it back up at all?"

Peter paced the room angrily. "Because, if this comes up- and it will, eventually- then we are all screwed. You go to jail, I go to jail. Game over, Neal." He turned back to the conman, a mix of emotions warring within him. On one hand, the enormity of what Neal had done left the agent in him screaming. On the other hand, Neal had risked everything to save him. And now…

And now Neal lay in a hospital bed, fast asleep.

Peter ran his hand through his hair again and plopped back into the chair. Damn it, Neal had _died _two days ago; once in the ambulance, and then again in the operating room. An orderly had come out to inform them two hours into surgery, asking for the family of Neal Caffrey. What he had found was an assortment of lawmen and criminals, all bound together by the man who lay bleeding on the operating table.

Peter pulled out his phone and sent El a text to let her know Neal had woken up. She had already recanted her decision to try and remain detached by insisting that Neal recuperate with them when he was released from the hospital. Peter had agreed, though Neal still had a long way to go until they cleared him to go home.

After hitting send, he tucked the phone back into his pocket. He had left out the conversation with Neal, partly because it could be incriminating and the other because he was still trying to deal with it all. Peter wasn't sure whether to still be mad or feel guilty. Neal had been reluctant to pursue a relationship with his father, but he had pushed him into it. And then Neal had been forced to stand there and watch as his father once again walked out of his life. Neal had tried to find the man, not for his own benefit, but to bring him in to force a confession out of him. When that hadn't worked… Neal had forged his father's voice; had spoken the words that he had longed to hear, but never would.

And what had Peter done? Unknowingly thrown it all back in his face. He had called his friend a criminal, and though he wasn't wrong, he should have handled the situation better.

Peter settled in to resume his vigil, determined to set things right. Neal wasn't just a friend, he was family. And when the younger man next woke up, he would try to figure out what else was going on behind this whole confession business. He and Neal would work together through this obstacle like they had every other, and they would come out stronger for it.

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Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who read and everyone who reviewed!


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